


Regret

by Xnbun



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Ending, Dead Miles: Do Not Eat, M/M, Mostly focuses on death, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-12 04:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20974109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xnbun/pseuds/Xnbun
Summary: Aaron has Miles caught on the rooftop. What if he didn't let him go?





	Regret

**Author's Note:**

> This is mean and angsty, please read the tags! Ship content is pretty tame but still there, sorry if you only wanted the angst.

Miles looks up at his uncle once the costume mask is back over his face, Aaron’s expression having changed from conflict into one of resolve. Miles’ eyes widen as his thoughts swing wildly between ‘He’s going to kill me!’ and ‘He wouldn’t!’. He gets his answer after what feels like an eternity, though it’s only a moment, when the clawed hand not squeezing his neck swipes down, tearing through the flesh of his abdomen as quick as lightning. 

At first Miles isn’t sure anything happened, pain not having caught up to him through the shock. He’s still staring up at Aaron with wide teary eyes but his uncle won’t meet his gaze. He becomes aware he can no longer breathe, feet having lost grip on the roof’s edge, held up only by the gauntlet wrapped around his neck, but before that realisation can bother him it lets go. 

He falls down to the ground without catching himself, mind still not quite out of the fog, not that his body would be able to keep up anyway. The jolt of the fall must open the floodgates, pain suddenly rushing through his body, overwhelming and hot, focused in his torso but shooting through every other part of him. 

For the first time, he looks down at his body, and the sight makes him wish he hadn’t. Blood is pouring out from what looks like four long deep tears in his gut, so deep they seem to go down forever, though it’s hard to tell through the thick red of blood and flesh. 

He tries to scream but it comes out broken and hoarse, throat still bruised from being choked. Wants to call for help, for the other spider-people to come save him, for anyone who can hear. All he can do is clutch weakly at his stomach, trying and failing to stop some of the bleeding, and curl into himself at the pain. 

Tries to remind himself to just keep breathing, stay awake, he’s Spider-man now and he will get back up. Wants so much to believe it but he can’t help remembering the Peter from his universe, how there are some wounds even he couldn’t heal from. 

Miles sobs, tears running down his face from the pain and from fear. He’s so scared, can’t remember a time he’s ever been this terrified, alone and hurt and afraid he’s going to die. 

He’d taken a pretty bad fall once as a young kid while riding his bike, scraped up his elbows and knees on the road. He wasn’t supposed to ride his bike without supervision, he wasn’t supposed to ride on the road, and he certainly wasn’t supposed to go without his helmet, but out he went anyway. He’d gone to uncle Aaron when he’d gotten hurt, crying and embarrassed and guilty, and unlike his parents who would have told him off, Aaron understood. 

He’d lifted him up onto the bench, telling him about all the times he’d done similar things. It hurt when he cleaned the wounds but he felt strong with his uncle there, like he could get through anything. Aaron bandaged him up, kissed the hurt away, and sent him off with the perfect excuse to tell his parents. 

How Miles wished Aaron was with him right now, he didn’t care about what he’d done, just needed him to hold him and tell him it would be okay, that way he could be strong. 

The sound of movement ahead prompted Miles to open his eyes again, not realising he had closed them, and he looked up to see his wish had come true, but Aaron had put the mask back on and even though he knew his uncle was under there he couldn’t help the wave of fear that washed over him. Still he could tell Aaron was looking anywhere but at him, even as he drew closer. 

Miles tried to speak but it came out all croaky, clearing his throat he tried again, this time getting through the words though scratchy and quiet. “Uncle Aaron…” He whimpered as he tried to sit up, not even getting half way before falling back down again. “Uncle Aaron, please…”

Aaron is standing right beside him now, looming over him but eyes still not meeting his face, looking like he is psyching himself up to something. Miles reaches out and grabs his boot, desperate for some kind, any kind of comfort. 

Kneeling down beside him, Aaron’s voice comes filtered through the mask. “Give me the drive.” Miles tightens his grip around it, if he’s going to die he can at least help to save the others. 

‘Oh god…’ He thinks. ‘I’m going to die.’

“Please,” he begs. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Aaron finally looks down at him, at the small boy made to look even smaller curled on his side like this. Blood pooling below him on the ground, soaking down into the earth. Looking up at him with eyes so sad and pitiful it breaks his heart. He can’t just leave him like this if he can provide even a small amount of bitter comfort. 

Mind made up, he disengages the gauntlets, they’ve already done enough damage, Miles so close to death. He takes off his own mask before taking off Miles’, revealing his tear streaked face looking at him with the most soul wrenching look of miserable gratitude. 

Aaron reaches around to cradle him in his arms, Miles making a pained noise as he sits him up slightly, sobbing fresh tears at the relief he feels now that his uncle is there holding him. 

“Shhh Miles, I’ve got you, it’s okay.” He says quietly, as soft and comforting as he can make his voice. “I’m sorry baby, I’m here now.” 

Aaron cups Miles’ face in his hand and gently wipes away tears with his thumb. The boy is shivering in his arms, eyes having trouble focusing, one small bloodstained hand clutching at the front of Aaron’s shirt like he’s scared to let go. 

Miles’ voice is so quiet now, “I love you uncle Aaron.” he manages, small and weak and like it takes all of his effort to get the words out. 

“I know, Miles, I love you too.” His own voice sounds choked now, trying to hold back the pain of guilt at what he’d done. 

Aaron had gotten so good at shutting out his emotions and his empathy, at running on a kind of autopilot where he did what needed to be done and didn’t think twice. It had become too easy to forget what he was doing and just keep on going, so easy that when confronted with the terrified face of his nephew he did what he always did, what he needed to do all these years in his line of work. Just shut off and do the job. 

Now he wishes he’d never found a way to block out the guilt, he’d take all that pain over this. He couldn’t avoid facing it this time, staring back at him with eyes once sparking with light, now dulling, fading away, only a trace of that light left. 

He’s stirred from his thoughts by the sound of Miles near whispering “Uncle Aaron” over and over again, desperate and pleading, like repeating his name will ground him to life, keep them held together for just a little longer. 

Miles was exhausted, each second gone by making it more difficult to stay awake. A thick fog encroaching on his mind, so tempting to let himself slip back into it, to allow himself to get lost. Can barely remember why he shouldn’t want to, has to keep reminding himself that this is it, once he leaves he won’t be coming back.

He isn’t ready, needs to just stay awake a little longer, grounds himself to Aaron with a vice grip on his shirt and a mantra of his name. There was so much he wanted to tell his uncle, but he couldn’t form the words, could only desperately repeat his name as though begging Aaron to read his mind, trying to get something, anything, across with the words. 

He wanted to tell him properly how much he loves him, not just love like he loves his parents, but something more. Something he was too unsure of to ever voice. The feeling itself not unsure, it was intense and constant and he never knew how to feel any other way. It was how to explain it, what it meant, how things could change, that was what held him back. 

He tries to speak it now but can’t. If he wasn’t already crying then frustrated tears would surely well in his eyes. As it is he can only let out a weak sob and tug at the shirt, trying to tell him everything in the only way he could. 

“I’m here, I’m here, it’s okay, you can rest now, I won’t leave you.” Aaron can feel his own tears run down his face now, unable to hold back the rush of emotions anymore. Even ones he’d been suppressing for much much longer, feelings he never let himself admit to, too wrong even for him. 

Now these feelings come crashing forward with everything else. Hand still cupping Miles’ face, he leans down and kisses him deeply, coppery taste of blood on his lips. Miles leans into the kiss ever so slightly, not enough to be visible but enough for Aaron to feel. He feels as Miles’ hand unfurls from his shirt, tension leaving the small boy’s body. 

He kisses him until his shaky movements still completely, until his body is fully limp in his arms, until he’s well and truly gone and then a little longer. Doesn’t want it to stop, feels like once he pulls away Miles really will be gone forever, but he can’t stay with him. 

There are sirens nearing and he supposes he still has a job to do. Though it all seems pointless now, it’s the only thing he’s got left. The drive is on the ground next to the kid’s body in a puddle of his blood, it’s doubtful it’d even still work soaked in blood as it is, but he takes it anyway. 

He lays Miles back down, watches as a final tear drips from its place on his face to the ground, jostled by the movement. He reaches down and strokes the boy’s face one last time right as he hears footsteps approaching. No time left, he takes the discarded gauntlets and pulls the mask back on right as the steps round the corner. 

“PDNY, put your hands up!” Yells a familiar voice from behind him. 

'Oh God, it shouldn’t have to be him.' Aaron thinks, slowly raising his hands. Hesitates only a moment before darting off with the use of his boots, fast enough to just barely miss getting shot, and racing away back to the collider. Mind filled with grief the whole way, almost wishes the bullet had hit him, that he was lying there with Miles. 

Jefferson having given short chase to the man in the costume turns around. Before, his view had been blocked but now he sees the small body of what must only be a kid, surrounded by blood and facing away from him unmoving. The kid is dressed in a Spider-man costume, and as he approaches he gets a better look at the boy’s face. 

Horror and dread sink low in his gut when he sees who it is, running over as fast as he can and dropping to his knees beside him. “Please no…” He pleads, reaching down with a shaking hand to check his son for a pulse. He prays Miles is alive, just let him be alive, he’d do anything, just please let him find a pulse. 

He finds none.


End file.
